


Old Habits Die Hard

by unpacked_chaos



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood and Injury, Comfort/Angst, Flashbacks, Human Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Hurt Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), M/M, Minor Violence, Nostalgia, Past Abuse, Protective Alastor (Hazbin Hotel), Soft Alastor (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-15
Updated: 2020-04-15
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,365
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23672644
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unpacked_chaos/pseuds/unpacked_chaos
Summary: Angel decides to bring back a little habit of his after having a rough time.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 13
Kudos: 342





	Old Habits Die Hard

**Author's Note:**

> So this fic was inspired by a post made by one of my favorite artists (link at the bottom) and even though my writing skills aren't that good yet, I wanted to try and give it a shot. So here ya go!
> 
> https://twitter.com/vicky_dcr/status/1249408191085137920?s=19

He remembered it so clearly. As if he hadn't died over 70 years ago. 

It didn't matter if he was injured or sad or if he just had a bad day. If it had been because of a fight out in the streets when he would come home with torn and bloody clothes and a bruised face or at least a black eye. It didn't matter if it was because Pops had gotten angry at him about their latest hit. Angrier than usual. Angry as in his body being bruised and bottles being thrown. Italian curses being heard all over their house about how much of a "disgrace he was to the family business". 

And bullets being fired. 

Bullets that luckily always missed the few times they were shot. He had to thank his quick reflexes for that. 

Whenever he wanted some kind of comfort when Molly and Aaron wasn't there, or when Ma couldn't help him or even when he just wanted to be alone, there was always the radio. 

That little old radio that sat on top of his dresser. 

Funny how a little box can bring so much joy to a man. How those little tunes always helped to cheer him up. He would always rest his head on top of his arm on the dresser. Right beside the radio. He could hear every tone, every word and note so clearly.

It was so calming for him.

It was exactly what he would need one one of those days.

And today was one of those days.

Angel was worn out. To say the best of it, that is. His face was covered in cuts and blood and so were his clothes. He didn't remember what had happened. The only thing he remembered was feeling beating after beating over and over again. He didn't care to try and remember what had happened, either. All he wanted was to get to the hotel, to his room. So he could have some peace for himself. 

His sight got fuzzier and fuzzier and his mind was getting blurrier by every second, but his legs managed to keep moving. He muttered for himself, almost mouthing, encouraging himself to keep moving. After having walked in and out of the hotel so many times he walked almost automatically up the stairs, down the hall and to the third room to the right. No one seemed to be in the hotel for the moment. He opened the door and walked in slowly step after step. And instead of walking towards his bed, he was walking towards the radio on his dresser. 

Thank God that he had asked for one when Charlie wondered if he wanted anything else in his room. He had never really used it before, never really felt the need to, but it gave him a sense of comfort. Like he always had something to turn to even when he was alone. 

Like when he was alive.

He changed from station to station. Being Hell, there weren't many good options to pick from. Especially now that things have become more modern and relying on technology. No one really listened to radio anymore. Except some of the older overlords, maybe. 

He stopped changing when he heard a broadcast with an all too familiar voice. 

"-uning in at the Radio Demon's broadcast! Now wasn't that a delightful killing session? It would have been almost as well as our last time, if only he wouldn't have blacked out so easily! You could say that I scared the hell out of him!" 

A laughing track was heard after Alastors joke. Angel couldn't help but use the little energy he had to smile. He could feel his legs getting weaker. 

The laughing track faded and Alastors voice was heard again. 

"Now, for some music! Today we'll be playi….. by Duke Ellington followed up by "An…" He couldn't concentrate anymore. Angel could hear the radio demons voice slowly blurring out and back in. His body couldn't take it anymore. 

Before he knew it everything went black. 

The spider felt his left side hurting slightly, as if he'd been hit by something. He could barely hear the song the radio played. But still enough for him to hear it properly. 

'I'm so fuckin' tired.' Angel tried to open his eyes, just enough to see where he was. He could see the bottom of his dresser in front of him. He had fallen. 

As he didn't want to fall asleep on the floor, he tried to move, which only resulted in a sharp pain in his back and legs. His head was pounding and he couldn't move. Great. 

'Justa small minute. I'll be able to move again in no time.' 

And with that, his eyes closed again. He could still hear the faint sound of the jazz playing from the radio. 

\--

It didn't take long for it to find him. Not even five minutes had passed before it came. The shadow could watch everyone who tuned in on Alastors broadcast, after all. Look over them and see what they were doing the whole time, as long as the broadcast was still on.

That's how it found him. 

Laying on the floor, passed out, with blood and bruises all over him. His clothes were ragged and bloodied and there were three big cuts on his back. He didn't move, but he seemed to breathe. Calm and slow breaths. Barely noticeable. The shadows eyes widened at the sight in front if him. This wasn't good. 

It needed to get Alastor. 

He flied out of the hotel, going through the city, building after building and on his way to the Radio Tower. Where Alastor was hosting his broadcast. As a song was playing, he had decided to take his time to clean up the corpse he had hosted (kidnapped) for his session. 

"Ah! There you are! Do you have any news?" 

The shadow nodded rapidly before making a gesture for Alastor to follow him. Quickly. The radio demon was confused at first, making his smile twist in a way as to express his bewilderment. But since he knew fooling around with him wasn't exactly something his shadow, or nearly anyone would do, he didn't question it. He finished putting the corpse in the bag, and the shadow melted into the floor, leading the red demon to the hotel where his discovery was. Alastor followed it in his shadow form to catch up faster. All the way to the hotel. 

And that's how he found him. 

Alastor could feel his smile stiffen. As he was standing in front of the entrance to the room he had been led to, he saw his shadow coming out of the radio on the dresser. The dresser inside Angel Dusts room. The dresser that was right beside the spider demon laying on the ground. He could see his shadow looking at him with an almost sad expression. An expression he was sure he had never seen grace his shadows features before. Its hands were on Angels back and head as if to comfort the passed out form. 

The radio demon could only look at the body in front of him. He looked over at his shadow. He felt the same sadness that his shadow felt. 

"This won't do." He said with a shake of his head, still smiling. Although his smile wasn't as big as it was before. With some hesitation at first, he leaned down to pick up the spider demon. Even though Angel was taller than him, he was certainly lighter, very easy to lift up. Alastor studied Angels wounds. His face was covered in them, so was the rest of his body. 

He swore to find the bastard that dared to treat Angel like this. 

Before the shorter demon could do anything else, the next song was already playing. He recognized the opening of the song almost immediately. 

"Angel" by Johnny Marvin. 

Alastor let out a small and quiet laugh. How fitting. He felt Angels head falling onto his shoulder. The intro began. And Alastor sang along, quietly, sweetly. Even though Angel most likely couldn't hear him, that wouldn't stop him. He continued to look down at the body he held in his arms. 

Angels features were so calm. His closed eyes showed nothing but exhaustion instead of the energy the spider always seemed to have and his beautiful smile wasn't there to greet him either. He couldn't wait until Angel was awake so he could make him smile again. There was blood all over his face, blood that had dripped down his cheeks and forehead, and his hair was a mess, laying damp on the red demons shoulder. 

It felt like seeing a beautiful white cloth getting dirtied and mistreated. It felt wrong. 

The shadow was still there, sitting on the dresser and watching. Didn't do anything, didn't go away. Just sat and watched. And wondered. 

Wondered if Alastor would do this if Angel was awake enough to remember it. Wondered if Angel would kiss him, hug him, laugh with him after that. Of course Alastor had sung to Angel before. But like this? When it wasn't just a happy, romantic song that they could dance to? When it was a song for consolation and tranquility? 

Never before. 

"Angel,  
You're sweeter than the sweetest angel  
You're neater than the neatest, all the silks  
And satins and lace  
Could not improve your beautiful face  
You're just an angel  
I'm up in heaven when I'm in your company  
You really should have a pair of wings  
Sweetest of sweetest things  
You're just an angel to me"

But it knew he would do it again. 

"Angel  
Sweetness  
Baby  
Mine" 

Time went faster than Alastor could catch up with, and the song was finished. Now the audience was awaiting the radio hosts voice again. The audience Alastor had almost forgotten about. 

Normally the broadcast would go on for a couple of more songs, until 5 pm was always the plan. Alastor looked over at the Radio and back down at Angel. He decided that he had more important things to take care of. 

"I'm afraid that will be all for this time, ladies and gentlemen." Alastor said, connecting his voice directly to the broadcast so his listeners could hear his message. His shadow watched him in a wondering look. 

"Until next time. I hope you're tuning in~" 

And with a mere snap of his fingers, the broadcast ended. And the room was silent. 

The radio demon looked down at the spider in his arms before giving him a soft kiss on the forehead. 

"Now I suppose I'll have to turn my full attention to you, mon ange." He carried Angel to the bed and put him down carefully. As he didn't want to leave him alone, even if it would be for a minute or so, he snapped his fingers again to summon a first aid kit. 

First time doing that, considering that saving someone's life wasn't exactly something he'd cared for before. 

Before Angel got in his life. 

"And you," Alastor turned to his shadow still sitting on the dresser. The shadow looked at him. 

"Thank you for your help, my friend. But that will be all." The shadow nodded, and was moving to leave when something came to Alastors mind. "Oh!" It turned back to its master. "And make sure to clean up the mess back at the studio. I think I'll be needed here for a while and I don't want anything left unfinished there." Remembering the corpse, Alastors shadow nodded once again before it melted into the floor and out of the room. Back to the radio tower. 

"Now," Alastor looked back at Angel's unconscious body lying on the bed. "Let's patch you up, my dear." As Angels clothes were in the way of his wounds, Alastor took off the spiders suit and put it on the chair beside the dresser so he could wash it later. He carefully cleaned away as much blood as he could, and as it seemed the bleeding had stopped. Seeing how big the cuts were on his back, he took out the bandage and wrapped it around his waist and used one piece for another cut on his upper left arm. The wounds on his face would heal by themselves. Being a serial killer taught you one thing or another about the body's healing process. 

After a while, the red demon seemed pleased with his work. All the big damages were covered up to heal, and no dirt or dried blood was to stain Angels fur. 

Taking care of Angel this way wasn't exactly something new, but it rarely ever happened. Maybe once or twice before. Angel wasn't one to "bother other people with his problems" as he used to put it. Hence why drugs and liquor was a big part of his life. 

But maybe bothering other people with his problems wasn't such a bad idea, seeing how big his problems were. And Alastor for one was all up for being bothered in this case. 

"I'll let you rest now, mon ange. You seem to be in need of it." Alastor kissed Angels cheek and tucked him in, putting the end of the blanket right over his chest. He grabbed the spiders suit from the chair so he could put it in the washing machine on the first floor of the hotel. He didn't quite understand how those things worked, but he was sure one of the girls could help him, but as the hotel had been very quiet he assumed Angel was the only one there, so he'd have to wait for their return. 

The radio demon walked towards the door and looked at Angel one last time before he closed it to make his way to the washing room. Even though his body was covered in bandages and even though he wasn't in his best state at the moment, Alastor thought he looked beautiful. He looked so at ease now that he had been cleaned up and taken care of. 

"I'll be back to check up on you soon, my dear."


End file.
